Origin of the Last Dragonborn
by KingKatanova
Summary: This is a short story I wrote about my Character's origin before he arrived in the Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. Using both lore from Oblivion and Skyrim. Please enjoy. (I do not own Skyrim or Oblivion)


The Origin of the Last Dragonborn

A book on Kithrail, the Last Dragonborn

Adapted segments from his Journal

Greetings, whether you are a humble citizen of tamriel, or a brave adventurer reading the history of Skyrim. It does not matter, for you are reading this all the same.

As you had have guessed, my name is Kithrail, I am a Khajiit who saved Nirn. Some call me Dragonborn, others called me Dovahkhin. Call me what you like, the deed I performed in Skyrim are both Legendary and Inspiring. But very little or none of you know my origin, how I came to Skyrim in the first place, for being a Khajiit, it would be very unusual for one of my kind to seek fame in the lands of hardship. Then take a seat, and hear my Tale.

In my early youth, I remember as a cub living with my mother and aunt on the roads of Elsweyr. My father and uncle where fighting against the Aldmari Dominion during the Great War, at which I only heard of their deaths at 13. I remember playing with my cousin Gerra over the Rocky cliffs and Desert Plains. During my travels across Elsweyr. I learned much in the ways of combat, blacksmithing and hunting, during my adolescence years, I spent much of my time away from my only family and hunted in the wilderness for food. Days I spent hunting wild animals with my crafted bow, it wasn't a very good bow, but it was my first tool I created in my time. Stalking was my passion, my Cat-like blood improved my hunting skills by enabling me to see better as the sun fell, and the moon shines bright. And my added sharp claws aid me to slice up the meet I find. Life way Harsh, but I used my skills well.

By 18, I decided I would leave my mother and aunt with my first cousin Gerra, saying our goodbyes, we followed the caravans from Elsweyr is Cryodiil, along the imperial roads. We did not realise the strife the Imperial Province was in until we got there, the Great War had taken its toll on the land. I had read in books back in Elsweyr of another Adventurer who came to Cryodiil in ages past who saved the empire from the Daedra, as well as falling in love with the Cryodillic Landscape. I did not see such beauty. I huddled with Gerra along the Roads, trying to avoid the Aldmeri Dominion Patrols. Eventually, we came upon Brume, the Nord's City in the Imperial Province. As Brume to me greatly reflexes upon the lands to the north. I feel in love with it.

Saving up enough money working the Mines on the Jerall Mountains, me and Gerra managed to purchase a shack along the Brume rural area behind the Now Desecrated Church of Talos. It was small, but homely. I began to adopt many Nord Traits from living in the rough mountainous area around Brume. Growing more and more use to living in the Cold Winds, my fur giving me extra warmth was a great help.

That Innocence was not to Last, for the Aldmari Dominion caught on that 2 Khajiit Refugee where living in Brume and began sending Agents at Brume's Door. Fearing our safely, I pleaded to Gerra that we must flee the City and possibly Find refuge in Skyrim. But she insisted we stay as the local Nords and what remained of the empire would protect us, I gracefully apologies and stayed with her.

The next day, heading out into the wild to hunt game for us went silently, as if time had stopped. I managed to trait down and take a large stag in full stride, heading back to Brume I caught on from other hunters that one of the Cities' houses had caught on fire, and that the Aldmari agents where seen fleeing the City. Fearing for Gerra, I swiftly ran on back to Brume. Smashed through the guardsman on the way in and rushed to my home to find the story was true. Hours later the fire subdued, and Gerra Burned Corpse was carried away. I spent the Night at the Tavern, drinking away my sorrows with my Last Septims. The Barman, who was a friend of mine at the time, told me that I should leave the city and head to Skyrim, where Aldmari refugees are able to evade capture. I took his advice, and left Brume and all my belongings behind for the Skyrim Boarder. Upon arriving I saw Legionnaires posted hidden on the road's edge waiting for something, I remained perched behind a bed of rocks on the mountainside. Starring blankly at them from afar. Then my world turned black, I feel to the ground, my vision blurring, seeing only the glyph image of an imperial behind my back. Darkness came over me…

And that is my Story from before I Arrived at Skyrim and to this day, the memory of my dear cousin haunts my memory and fuels my anger against the Aldmeri Dominion.


End file.
